


Flowers and Coffee

by Brawness



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Boss/Employee Relationship, Double B, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Help, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, Romance, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, doubleb sails on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brawness/pseuds/Brawness
Summary: “So you'd rather be associated with me and have them assume that you're gay?”OrBobby is Hanbin's assistant/gardener/housekeeper/glorified babysitter and he likes helping lost causes.





	1. The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a work of fiction based on real people. It was written for the sole purpose of entertainment and does not in any way reflect on the lives, opinions and personalities of the real individuals.
> 
> I request for the privacy of the individuals whom this story was based on. Please DO NOT send it to them or find ways for them to see it. This is all for fun and I do not wish for them to be burdened by something that I wrote.
> 
> Feel free to chat me up on twitter [HERE](https://twitter.com/usmarchioness?s=09)

The morning sun was pleasantly peeking through the skylight of his work room, the lines of his draft blurred in front of his eyes. 

 

“All nighter again, architect Kim?” A gravelly voice came carrying the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

 

Hanbin turned tiredly to his assistant, smelling the life saving brew and took a long sip. 

 

As bothersome as he was, he had his uses. 

 

Bobby was noisy, clumsy and eternally talkative. He had no sense of decorum, barging in wherever he pleased, cleaned however and whenever he wanted and followed Hanbin’s dictates only when convenient. Aside from the consistent cup of coffee at nine in the morning, he didn't really know why he kept Bobby around. 

 

Well. 

 

Maybe since his last assistance quit in tears after he “accidentally" threw a glass in her general direction after she tried to flirt with him. Flirt meaning, taking off her clothes thinking he would fall onto her like a sex starved maniac.

 

She wasn't even that cute. 

 

So he didn't have a choice. Hanbin made terrible coffee and Bobby somehow perfected the balance between weak and rocket fuel. 

 

He almost dropped his cup when a blast of “Welcome to the Jungle” blared through his expensive sound system. With a sigh, he slumped in his chair. He was so tired.

 

Strong fingers kneaded his shoulders casually that he only stiffened for a second and eventually melted.

 

“Bobby, what did I tell you about touching me?” He muttered.

 

“Rule number two hundred and twenty six: Thou shall not touch architect Kim unless it is a life and death situation.” Bobby intoned, but made no move to stop. 

 

“Yes, and so?” 

 

“You look close to dying. I need to pay rent, you know.” 

 

Hanbin released another beleaguered sigh but allowed another few seconds of Bobby’s expert kneading before pulling away.

 

“You need to rest.” Bobby said. 

 

“And you need to mind your own business.” Hanbin said curtly, downing the rest of his coffee and picking up his straight rule.

 

“You're not doing your clients any favors if you make a mistake because you're overworked.” His assistant said irritatingly. 

 

Hanbin slammed the straight rule down. “I. Do. Not. Make. Mistakes.” He grit his teeth and left the work room, his temples pounding. It didn't feel like it would develop into a migraine, but it was better to be safe. 

 

He angrily took off his clothes and stepped into the shower. 

 

A mistake cost his father everything. 

 

*

 

When he was sure that Hanbin was sleeping, Bobby turned down the music and quietly tidied the house.

 

The architect lived alone in a massive five bedroom modern Spanish house situated in an orchard. 

 

Bobby started working for him two months before, when he was referred by the horticulturist he was gardening for, for extra money. 

 

He absolutely hated Hanbin’s guts the first time he met him. Hanbin was arrogant, impatient and quick to anger. There were times during the first week that Bobby seriously wanted to deck him. 

 

But then he heard him talking to his sister, and how gentle his face became over the phone. After that, every irritating and absurd things that he asked Bobby to do, like call him ‘Mr. Kim’ (which Bobby point blank refused to do, so he called him ‘architect Kim’ instead), or to arrange his pencils alphabetically by maker, hardness and length (which he also refused), Bobby found it in him to tolerate that. 

 

It didn't make Hanbin any less irritating, but at least he saw redeeming factors, like how hardworking he was, how relentlessly dedicated and how every little detail had to be worked and reworked to absolute perfection. 

 

At some point, Bobby started caring for him, like he would any other human being. Hanbin pulled one too many all nighters and often forgot to eat, so Bobby took it upon himself to cook for him whenever he could, or nag him to rest. Hanbin often snapped and growled at him, but Bobby now knew that he was more bark than bite. Most of the time. 

 

Bobby hummed as he prepared their lunch. The one thing Hanbin never quibbled about was food. He always bought the best of everything and didn't mind if Bobby cooked premium Kobe beef for a regular lunch. Which was what he was doing. 

 

The scent of fried meat may have roused the architect as he came ambling down, his hair sticking up in all directions and his white shirt hanging low on his collar bones. 

 

“What time is it?” He croaked, settling tiredly by the head of the table, rubbing his face with his hands.

 

“Half past one.” Bobby replied, setting the table.

 

“Shit. I overslept.” Hanbin muttered, raking a hand through his hair, the air of frustration surrounding him. He knew better than to ask Bobby to wake him, since he never did if he judged that Hanbin haven't had a good night's sleep, which was always. 

 

“Eat up.” Bobby served a steaming plate of steak and mashed potato, with salad on the side. Bobby took his seat on Hanbin’s right and started digging into his own plate. After a minute, Bobby noticed that Hanbin hasn't touched his food. He was just staring at it, as if the mere thought of lifting the fork and knife was tiresome. He looked as if he wanted to sleep more than he wanted to eat. 

 

“Geez, seriously?” Bobby groaned. It wasn't the first time he had to cut Hanbin’s food to bite sized pieces because he simply couldn't be bothered to. “It's a sad day when a man is too tired to cut his own steak.” With deft movements, Bobby carved the piece of meat and gave the fork to Hanbin.

 

Hanbin began to sluggishly eat. “S’good.” He said. 

 

It would probably take another half hour for him to finish the food, so Bobby told him about his day, as boring as it was. It took time for Hanbin to gather his wits and join in actual conversation, but that was fine with him. It was kinda cute. 

 

“So I planted roses in the back, hopefully when they bloom you'll let me take a couple in an emergency, in case Jinhwan runs out.” Bobby rambled. “I can also plant them throughout the property if you like, maybe the wall climbing types on the side of the house. It would look so nice in the summer.” 

 

“Pink.” Hanbin mumbled through his food.

 

“Sorry?” 

 

“Pink roses. Some orange too. Hanbyul and mom would like those.” He said absently. 

 

Bobby grinned, already planning the layout of the garden. Officially, he was a landscaper, but since contracts are running low at the moment, he served as a gardener and a glorified babysitter. 

 

“Bobby…” Hanbin said haltingly, quite different from the self assured architect he knew that he caught Bobby’s full attention. 

 

“I need a favor.”

 

*

 

Hanbin squeezed the bridge of his nose as he heard Bobby complain in the fitting room. 

 

“It’s too stuffy. How do you even breathe in this?” 

 

Another scuffle and some slightly alarming yelps. Both from Bobby and the tailor. 

 

“No! No bowtie. Over my dead carcass!” A pause. “What the fu- Are these garters?” 

 

Hanbin scrunched his face between his hands. This is turning out to be a bad idea. 

 

“These are called shirt stays. They keep the hem of your shirt tucked neatly in your pants.” The tailor’s voice reflected ill concealed impatience. 

 

“Well, they look like some stripper shit…” Bobby gruffly. “Who even thinks of this?” 

 

This time, both Hanbin and the tailor heaved a sigh. 

 

A few more minutes and the harried looking tailor bustled out of the fitting room. “I did my best, architect Kim. I hope my efforts deliver.” He said with grave importance. 

 

Bobby stepped out of the fitting room.

 

Whatever Hanbin was planning to say dried in his throat. 

 

They fitted him an immaculately pressed navy suit, a crisp white shirt open at the neck. Bobby pulled his over long, unruly hair, back into a ponytail that Hanbin can see his gold earring clearly for the first time. 

 

From the dramatic angle of his jaw to the hollow of his collar, lush, tanned skin was accentuated by the blue of the suit jacket.

 

“You clean up well, I guess.” Hanbin forced out when his wits recovered.

 

He cleaned up  _ very  _ well indeed. Bobby had wide, leanly muscled shoulders that the jacket hung beautifully from. His long legs encased by the slim fitting pants, leading to polished wingtip shoes. 

 

“Faint praise.” Bobby grinned crookedly at him, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “You don't look so bad yourself.” Making a show of leering at Hanbin. 

 

Hanbin scoffed, adjusting his cufflinks. He was was wearing a charcoal suit with a slim tie. He brushed his hair up smoothly. That was the extent of him following convention. He kept his multiple earrings and his trademark onyx ring on his index. 

 

“Let’s go.” He left the suit makers knowing they would charge everything in his accounts.

 

*

 

“How many ridiculous european cars do you really need?” Bobby nervously looked around the interior of Hanbin’s Maserati. He saw Hanbin’s mouth twitch as the car purred in acceleration.

 

The car was very much like Hanbin himself. Splendid, sleek and very expensive. Bobby had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping when Hanbin came out of his dressing room. Contrary to the casual clothes that Bobby has seen him in their entire association, Hanbin cut a very fine figure in a suit. 

 

“Remember what I told you…” Hanbin began tersely.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I am your assistant but try to imply we are something more. Nothing outright, just strong implications.” Bobby droned. 

 

“Yes, and in return I will recommend you to my associates for all their landscaping needs. Plus a bonus.” 

 

The proposition didn't really bother him and he was fine with people assuming his sexuality, he lived for causing mischief. But he didn't understand why Hanbin felt the need to do this. At his sister’s wedding.

 

“Why are we doing this though? What do you get out of it?” Bobby finally asked. The first time Hanbin asked for the favor, Bobby was too stupefied to ask, but agreed anyway. 

 

“I am being hunted.” Hanbin gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. 

 

“What?” Bobby sputtered. “The fuck?”

 

“I know, right?” Hanbin breathed. “My father’s former associates are angling for me and my name. They've literally been throwing their daughters at me. My last assistant was one of them.” This was all relayed with an ironic twist of his lips. 

 

Bobby couldn't stop himself. He roared with laughter. 

 

“Oh my god.” He gasped. “The great architect, Kim Hanbin is being hunted by girls and their mothers.” Bobby clutched at his aching sides. 

 

“Funny, I know.” Hanbin rolled his eyes. 

 

“So you'd rather be associated with  _ me  _ and also have them assume that you're gay?” 

 

“It is better for it to be someone relatively unknown.” Hanbin ended simply.

 

“Man… imagine having in laws that bad, you need to resort to this.” Bobby considered, wincing a little. Maybe being rich and famous isn’t all that after all. 

 

Hanbin actually shuddered. “One of them, Mrs. Clarke… very tenacious. She said that if her daughter did not appeal to me, maybe she would.”

 

“Holy shit.” Bobby started cackling again. “Was she hot, though?” 

 

“Think sixty year old Sofia Vergara.” 

 

“Hot damn.”

 

“Yep.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Let me address this first, I know that Hanbin is fifteen years older than Hanbyul, but for the purpose of this story, I am making their age gap only 12 years.  
> -I am writing this fic along with others, so updates will be spotty at best, but I already have the next two chapters lined up, so please bear with me.  
> -The song that inspired this fic was "Flower Cafe" by Jooheon of Monsta X. Please listen if you've time. It's a lovely song!  
> -Comments are most appreciated. Please feel free to send me feedback, I love hearing from you guys!


	2. The Trade

It seemed that there was going to be a permanent lump in his throat throughout the entire event. He never thought that he would have to be the one to perform this duty for his sister, but in the absence of his father, he was the next best thing. 

 

“Are you ready, sprite?” Hanbin offered his hand.

 

Hanbyul carefully turned in her flowing dress and veil. Hanbin had never felt such overwhelming, all encompassing love for one person in his life. 

 

“How do Iook, oppa?” She dimpled, putting her hand in his, light like a butterfly wing. Infinitely precious. Infinitely fragile. He brought it to his lips.

 

“Like the most beautiful girl.” He whispered tenderly against her fingers. 

 

Hanbyul’s eyes misted. “Don’t make me cry.” She squeaked. His little girl. 

 

“Such a crybaby.” He murmured, chucking her chin, swallowing his own emotions.

 

“Am not!” She stomped her foot. 

 

He took both of her hands in his and looked directly in her eyes. “Hanbyul. You know it’s not too late right? My car is fast. We can run away. Mom will never find us. I have an offshore bank account… We have Bobby.” Hanbin was only half joking. 

 

A scandalized giggle escaped his sister. It sounded exactly as when she was a kid. His heart hurt. “You’re incorrigible.” She said. “Minhyuk is a good man and I love him. He will take care of me.” 

 

He just reiterated his long standing promise to her. “Just remember that no one on earth loves you more than I do.” He said clearly, absolutely.

 

Hanbyul squeezed her lips together and sniffed. 

 

“And if Minhyuk or anyone in his family ever make you feel as if you deserve less than what I can give you.” He paused. “I will break them.” A vow. 

 

Hanbyul put her warm palms on either side of his cheeks and gave him all the due respect and the gravity of their twelve year age gap. Her eyes round, guileless and adoring. Hanbin carved the memory in his soul. 

 

“I love you, Hanbin-oppa.” She whispered. “More than you know. Forever and always.” Hanbyul pressed her lips to his chin. Like how she always did when she was little. He kept that in his treasure chest of good memories for rainy days.  _ I love you more. Forever and always. _

 

“As unwilling as I am to see you married, mom will skin me if we’re late.” Hanbin offered his arm.

 

Hanbyul’s sparkling laughter rang through the hall. 

 

*

 

It was a lavish affair. That was what the snobs were saying. 

 

All Bobby saw were a bunch of stiff necks, fluttery pastels and floral scented old ladies. He was busy keeping an eye on Hanbin and spreading mischief.

 

Hanbyul and Hanbin’s mom were absolutely delighted to see him. “Bobby-oppa, you’re so handsome!” Hanbyul shrieked, throwing her arms around him. “I am so glad Hanbin-oppa brought you!” 

 

Needless to say he made a good impression when Hanbyul visited. 

 

“I’m his plus one. No one would go out with his ugly mug.” Bobby stage whispered. 

 

“I heard you.” Hanbin’s voice came from behind. 

 

“Hanbyul, it’s not too late to change your mind. I am quite good at disappearing.” Bobby murmured. “Runaway with me. Let Hanbin do damage control, he can meet us later.”

 

Hanbyul giggled and put her head on his shoulder. “I am not surprised that you get along with Hanbin-oppa. He told me the exact same thing.” 

 

“Let’s all run away together! Offer stands.” Bobby said and took Hanbin’s mother to the dance floor while Hanbin took Hanbyul.

 

“You’re a very nice young man, Bobby.” She said, her eyes serious. Hanbin’s eyes. 

 

“I am a year older than architect Kim, ma’am.” Bobby audaciously spun the older lady with a daring dip to her delight. 

 

“Hanbin has shouldered so much burden in his life. Myself included.” She said faintly when she calmed down. “He deserves to be happy.”

 

Bobby gave her all his attention. Hanbin never really offered him much information about himself, so Bobby was quite curious.

 

“He is very hardworking.” Bobby confirmed. Dangerously hardworking. 

 

“I’ve never seen him smile more than when we last visited.” She cupped his cheek. It had a similar feeling as when his own mother did it. A mother’s warmth. “You’re good for my Hanbin.”

 

“I am just his assistant, ma’am.” He said, feeling guilty about the charade they perpetrated that he avoided her eyes. 

 

She smiled. 

 

*

 

It wasn’t even an hour into the reception when the whispers started. Of course, for decorum’s sake, they kept mum during the service, despite the disapproving stares regarding his choice of accessories, but now, there was no holding back.

 

“His father…” 

 

“Engineer Kim…” 

 

“... big scandal…”

 

“people died…”

 

“Just like his father…” 

 

Wisps of white light started floating on his left field of vision. Hanbin blinked them away. He patted his suit pocket for his pills. 

 

_ Fuck. _

 

They were in his car. Hanbin looked at his watch. It was another three hours before the reception ended. He couldn’t leave his sister to these wolves. The valet parking was too far. 

 

A strong hand settled on his waist, Hanbin distractedly saw Bobby lean close to him. 

 

“You okay?”

 

He shook his head. Bobby’s hand tightened on him, Hanbin focused on that. 

 

“In the car, my pills are in the glove compartment.” He said disjointedly.

 

“Okay. I’ll get them for you. Do you need to sit?” Bobby tried to usher him to a chair but Hanbin stood firm.

 

“I’ll be fine.” He rigidly walked to the side.

 

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Bobby promised.

 

Hanbin did his best to mingle with the guests and re-acquaint himself with the groom’s family. It was important to know which people to hunt down when the time came. He just prayed that Bobby came back soon. He went to an unoccupied balcony and leaned against the balustrade, away from prying eyes. 

 

Like an instant prayer answered, Bobby found him and discreetly pressed a pill into his palm and gave him a flute of champagne. 

 

“Sorry I can’t find any water. I don’t know if alcohol will affect it. Maybe you should just swallow with your spit.” 

 

Hanbin snorted. His mouth was so dry he didn’t think the pill would go down without him choking on it. Dying on your own sister’s wedding is so  _ de trop.  _ Here goes nothing. 

 

Bobby radiated anxious energy, staying very close to Hanbin.  _ Very close _ . Watching him for any signs of illness or distress. 

 

A few minutes passed and the floating lights subsided. Hanbin let himself breathe a sigh of relief. 

 

“Better?” Bobby asked. Hanbin didn’t realize that his assistant was holding his arm and he was holding on to Bobby’s belt loop. How did that happen? 

 

“I’m fine now, thank you.” Hanbin disengaged himself. The pill was keeping everything at bay. Temporarily. He could last until the end of the reception. For Hanbyul. He returned to where the party was in full swing. Bobby cast him a worried look, but cautiously melted back into the crowd. 

 

So far, Minhyuk has been doing a great job of sheltering Hanbyul from any hurtful rumors said about their father. They had no such qualms about Hanbin hearing, though. Which was ironic. To his face, they had nothing but respect, because they needed something from him. They needed his designs, his talent, his professional reputation. The bragging rights of managing to score a design from him. But behind his back, they didn’t try to hide their loathing at having to ask him for help with anything.

 

He had nothing but contempt for these people that turned their backs on his mother in her time of need. Her so called “friends". Hanbin vowed to himself that he was going to succeed wildly beyond their expectation. Use the all the skills and resources his father gave him to make a name for himself. And he did succeed. Wildly.

 

“Are you worrying again?” A soft hand landed on his arm. Hanbyul. She changed her dress into something with less frills and more appropriate for the party in progress. 

 

“I am always worried for you, sprite.” He mustered a smile for her and pulled her into a slow dance again. The flashes of light are slowly encroaching back into his sight. Too soon.

 

His sister laid her head on his shoulder, he pressed her hand to his heart, savoring the last few minutes that she was his. The last dance.

 

“I’ll be fine.” She said. “I found a good man. I also have a wonderful brother.” 

 

He pressed his lips to her hair. “It is so hard for me to let you go.” He said thickly. “But I want you to be happy.”  _ Even if it breaks my heart.  _

 

She sniffled. 

 

“I want you to be happy too, oppa.” Her voice trembled. 

 

He gave her a squeeze. A dull throb was starting to develop in his left temple. Please. Just a little more time, he prayed. 

 

“Hanbyul.” A moderate voice broke their moment. Minhyuk. 

 

“It's time, love.” Her new husband said. 

 

The age old symbolic gesture of giving away your daughter’s hand in marriage felt more real to him now than it did during the start of the wedding. His heart was being taken from him.  

 

Hanbin was never having daughters. This once was enough. He only had one heart to give. 

 

The white wisps developed into flashes similar to lightning. He brought his hand to his left eye and gritted his teeth. Almost there.

 

The same arm was back around his waist. Warm and strong. An anchor. Bobby.

 

Hanbin smiled for his sister who was departing to her honeymoon. He purposely blanked his mind to what that may entail and concentrated on adding to the cheer. Concentrated on Bobby’s even breathing, standing so close to him. 

 

He opened the door of the Rolls Royce that was taking the couple to the airport when Hanbyul turned back to him and Bobby. With a wide smile, she gave both of them an energetic hug and a mischievous whisper. “You look good together.” A wink. 

 

He felt something being handed to him and instinctively clasped it. 

 

It was a few moments later amidst the laughter and cheer that he saw what it was. 

 

A flower bouquet.

 

*

 

As the minutes passed, Bobby watched Hanbin’s condition rapidly deteriorate after the newlyweds left. He barely maintained the modicum of civility by giving short answers and abruptly cutting off conversations that Bobby had to smooth over. He didn't mind that, but he was worried, Hanbin’s face was chalk white. The skin of his cheeks looked stretched over his bones and lines of strain bracketed his mouth. 

 

“Hanbin.” Bobby pitched his voice low. When he didn't get a reaction, he gently squeezed Hanbin’s hand. It was ice cold and clammy. 

 

Hanbin turned unfocused eyes towards him. 

 

“Let’s get you home, okay?” 

 

To his relief, Hanbin nodded. 

 

He took the bouquet that Hanbin had been carrying around the entire time, regardless of the teasing remarks. Hanbyul gave it to him, therefore it was important. Hanbyul could give him a pebble and Bobby was pretty sure Hanbin would treasure it like the magpie that he was. Bobby saw a stash of little trinkets that ranged from something a child would come up with and cutesy stuff that a girl would collect hidden in Hanbin’s closet. It was one of Hanbin’s endearing qualities that made it easier for Bobby to tolerate his mood swings. 

 

Bobby started pushing them through the crowd, bidding their goodbyes, Hanbin docile and letting himself be towed by Bobby, hardly saying anything.

 

When they reached Hanbin’s mother, her face mimicked Bobby’s worry. 

 

“I'm fine, mom. Just tired.” Hanbin gave a strained twitch of his lips and kissed his mother’s cheek. 

 

“I’ll take him home, Mrs. Kim.” Bobby assured her and she reluctantly let them go without asking questions. 

 

The valet came around with the car, Hanbin letting Bobby support half of his weight, which in itself was telling. 

 

“Here.” Hanbin handed the keys to Bobby. He expected Hanbin to insist on driving, but given his state, wasn't advisable. At all. 

 

Bobby opened the passenger door, leaned the seat back and pushed Hanbin inside. 

 

The architect took off his jacket tiredly and let Bobby strap him in. 

 

The car was ridiculously intimidating. Finding the glove compartment alone was already a challenge, much less having to drive it. Sure he was excited, no man worth his salt wouldn’t be, but this car was probably worth more than three years of his income. 

 

When he got over the initial marvel of actually being given the reigns of a high performance luxury vehicle, Bobby looked over to his boss who was quiet.

 

Hanbin seemed to have shrunk in his seat, curled facing Bobby. His left hand balled, pressing into his left eye socket while the other had fingertips gripping his carefully styled hair. 

 

“Architect Kim.” Bobby said roughly, hesitating to touch the other man who was in such obvious pain. “Hanbin.” 

 

“Migraine.” Hanbin gritted. “Just. Drive.” 

 

What the fuck? Migraines got that bad?

 

“Maybe I should take you to the hospital.” Bobby ventured. 

 

Hanbin’s lips compressed into a thin line of distaste. “No. Home.” 

 

It was almost like an insult to drive a Maserati as if it were a Fiat, but Bobby made an effort to avoid all possible bumps in the road as they seemed to aggravate whatever pain Hanbin was having. They were both silent, the only indication that Hanbin did not fall asleep was the fact that he was consciously breathing through his nose in carefully measured pulls.  

 

Bobby didn’t notice that he was sweating bullets, until they arrived at the house. He got out and went to the other side of the vehicle. 

 

“Architect Kim.” He said softly, unbuckling the passenger seat belt.

 

Slowly. Painstakingly, Hanbin maneuvered himself to face Bobby, his hands white and shaking, grasped Bobby’s shoulder. 

 

“That’s it. Careful.” Bobby kept his voice low and soothing. He held his breath as Hanbin got to his feet with considerable effort. He had never personally experienced being on the verge of fainting from pain, but if there was a textbook picture example, Hanbin was it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -So I updated a day early because why not? 
> 
> -More fluff is coming in the next chapter so stay tuned! 
> 
> -Please feel free to leave me comments, they motivate me. :3


	3. The Concession

Everything was enshrouded with a white mist. He couldn’t see clearly. His left eye was watering, he half expected to see blood dripping from it, it was like an ice pick was permanently lodged there. Breathe. Don’t break down. Walk. 

 

He was dimly aware of Bobby supporting him, but he was determined to get to his room by himself or die trying. A few more steps. 

 

The house was cloaked in darkness, only the muted pilot lights lining the hallway guided his way. 

 

Sudden brightness felt like an explosion in his head. He shut his eyes.

 

Bobby.

 

Light. 

 

He couldn’t speak. It was too much. The pain radiated from his skull down to his neck like a thousand electrical currents, stabbing his muscles and scraping. Ripping. He tasted blood. 

 

*

 

Bobby turned the lights off again in a panic, but he was afraid the damage was already done. Hanbin was on the floor clutching his head, gasps of distress unwillingly escaping his throat. 

 

“Fuck. Shit. Hanbin.” Bobby rushed to his side, carefully putting a hand on his back. With strength and delicacy he didn’t know he possessed, he pulled a stiff Hanbin into his arms, ignoring the vulnerable whimpers that intensified at his sudden movement. Carefully depositing his burden on to the huge master bed and sitting on the side, he fumbled for his phone and dialed the emergency number. 

 

They picked up on the first ring. 

 

“Hello? We need an ambulance, please. I don’t know what is wrong, my boss is in terrible pain -,” 

 

A freezing hand grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged. Bobby halted his stuttering explanation and looked at Hanbin who had his face buried in a pillow. He could see the beads of sweat that dotted the architect’s neck. 

 

His voice was down to a strained rasp that Bobby had to lean closer to hear. “Call Yunhyeong. Four.” 

 

“Four?” Bobby stupidly asked.  

 

“Speed… dial.” Hanbin gasped raggedly, getting up from the bed and stumbling to the bathroom. Bobby grabbed the landline and went after him, hearing unmistakable retching sounds. 

 

“Sorry, we don’t need an ambulance anymore.” Bobby was highly unconvinced but hastily hung up on emergency services.

 

Hanbin was on his knees, hugging the toilet as his entire body tried to expel its contents. Bobby winced at a particularly brutal heave, and knelt beside Hanbin, rubbing his back as he dialed. 

 

“Hanbin. It’s late.” The voice on the other line answered promptly. 

 

“Hello, this is Bobby, architect Kim’s assistant.” He said. As if on cue, Hanbin retched again. 

 

“I’ll be right there.” The line cut.

 

Bobby squinted in the darkness, assessing Hanbin who was taking gulping breaths on the toilet seat, shivering. At least the vomiting subsided. He reached for a hand towel, wet it in the sink and grabbed a bottle of mouthwash, dispensing a small amount diluted with some water. 

 

He snaked his arm carefully in front of Hanbin’s waist, waiting for his refusal. When he didn't hear any, he scooted closer. “Hanbin, here, rinse your mouth, you’ll feel better.” He whispered, pressing the little cup to his lips.

 

Slowly, the architect obeyed, sluggishly swilling the liquid in his mouth and spitting it in the toilet with a moan, trembling.

 

“You did well.” Bobby pitched his voice low and carefully pulled the unresisting man to him, his back to Bobby’s chest. Hanbin shifted and pressed his left temple to Bobby’s neck, small sounds coming from him. “Shh, I got you.”

 

Bobby wiped the wet cloth over Hanbin’s face and neck and slowly rocking him back and forth as they waited for Yunhyeong.

 

By the time he heard footsteps, Hanbin stopped shaking and was quiet, but his hand was twisted in Bobby’s shirt. 

 

“Bobby?” A pleasant voice echoed from the hallway.

 

“Here.” He called. Hanbin stiffened against him. Footsteps disappeared and a dim silhouette took shape by the door. He heard a click and a small light was switched on. Not bright enough to cause Hanbin discomfort. He knelt next to them.

 

“Hello, I’m Song Yunhyeong. Hanbin’s friend and personal physician.” 

 

Bobby’s eyes adjusted to the light and recognized the handsome face as one of the wedding attendees. 

 

“I’m Bobby.” He said simply. 

 

The doctor rummaged through his bag. “How long has he been like this?” 

 

“Half an hour into the wedding reception.” 

 

Yunhyeong rolled up Hanbin’s sleeve and swabbed an alcohol wipe on his skin. “Did he take his pills?” 

 

“I gave him one when he told me.” Bobby answered, looking away from the syringe as Yunhyeong injected something into Hanbin’s upper arm. He had to look away, feeling slightly queasy at the sight of the needle piercing skin. 

 

“Sedative. The onset of the migraine was probably even earlier than that, the pill wouldn't be effective at that stage.” Yunhyeong murmured. “This should knock him out for a couple of hours.” 

 

The doctor put on a plaster afterwards, Hanbin lay pliant against Bobby. “Hanbin.” Yunhyeong brushed Hanbin’s hair gently. “Still bad?”

 

“Mmm.” Hanbin breathed. 

 

“Let’s wait.” Yunhyeong sat, his back to the tiled wall and they counted the minutes in silence. Bobby kept rocking them, his mind absorbing how vulnerable Hanbin was. How uncomfortable it made him that Hanbin felt such pain. 

 

“It's okay to move him now.” Yunhyeong whispered. Hanbin’s hand loosened its grip and was relaxed on Bobby’s middle.

 

It frankly scared Bobby how limp Hanbin was when he lifted him. But somehow even dead weight, he was still lighter than he should be. Wasn't Bobby feeding him enough? 

 

But then, he was only with Hanbin during the weekdays from nine to five. He left him dinner, but a lot of times the food ended up in the fridge. 

 

The unnatural peace of sedation bothered him. Hanbin, even when tired, had this restless feel to him. Bobby set him down on the bed again, running his fingers through the silky hair that was out of place. Hanbin’s lashes fluttered slightly. 

 

A soft cough. Yunhyeong. “He’ll be out until a good part of noon tomorrow. You should get some rest too.” 

 

And with that, Yunhyeong left, making Bobby promise to call him if Hanbin grew agitated again. 

 

Well then. 

 

*

 

The scent of cooking woke him. He couldn't yet decide if he was hungry or nauseous. His head was stuffed with cotton and his mouth was just as dry. 

 

Slowly, memories presented themselves to him like an incredibly slow and grainy 280p youtube video clip. Wedding. 

 

Hanbyul. Beautiful. 

 

Navy suit. Ponytail. Warm. 

 

Bobby. 

 

Strong. Handsome.

 

He hugged his pillow, willing the oblivion of sleep to visit him once more. What time was it anyway? 

 

He cracked his eye open cautiously just in time for him to hear the door open slightly. His curtains were drawn shut blocking out the sun, if it was out. The only light was coming from the small guide light in the corner of his room. He closed his eyes again.

 

Soft footsteps padded over to him and sat near where he was curled up. 

 

A barely there roughness traced over his face. His brows, the top of his cheek, the bridge of his nose. His top lip. Bottom lip.

 

The touch lingered there for a moment. With a sense of disappointment, it resumed tracing the shell of his ear. But so gentle and so loving. 

 

He sighed. 

 

“Hanbin.” The gravelly voice that had the same warmth and roughness as the fingertip that mapped his face whispered so close to his ear. 

 

A callused palm cupped the back of his neck,  strong fingers carefully digging into the muscles at the base of his skull. 

 

Goosebumps raced up his arms at the intense sensation of relief he didn't know he needed. His hands involuntarily clutched at the shirt so conveniently nearby. Attached to Bobby. Clutch, release. Clutch, release. In time with the the kneading motions on his nape. 

 

“Like a kitten.” Bobby chuckled. 

 

What kitten? 

 

He must have mumbled something, Bobby stopped massaging. He whined. Bobby ran his fingers through his hair in consolation.

 

Distantly, he heard the crackle of something like plastic. 

 

“Open your mouth.” Bobby ordered. 

 

If Hanbin thought that was weird, it didn't immediately occur to him in his hazy state. He opened his mouth obediently. 

 

Something flat, round and covered in granules was placed on top of his tongue. He let it sit in his mouth, his brain trying to sluggishly chug along to lucidity. 

 

Sweet. 

 

Slowly, the flavor intensified into something aromatic and fruity. Peach? 

 

“You need to chew, Bin.” Bobby sounded so amused, but Hanbin did as he was told. It helped that Bobby rubbed small circles on his jaw as if to remind him how it worked. 

 

With some irritation, he caught the offending digit in his hand and held on. 

 

*

 

How can a grown man in his thirties be absolutely, stinking adorable? 

 

Bobby stared down marvelling at the sight of Hanbin stubbornly holding on to his pinky finger with his own slender ones. 

 

He was slowly chewing on the gummy candy Bobby fed him, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes still closed. 

 

He didn't seem to be in pain anymore which was good. But he had been sleeping for more than eighteen hours. Bobby called Yunhyeong to ask if that was normal, to which he was assured that Hanbin was just catching up on his exhaustion and the effects of the sedative. Also that he wouldn't  be fully himself until hours after waking up. 

 

Apparently Yunhyeong has dealt with a lot of Hanbin’s previous episodes for him to know this information. This knowledge caused a strange, uncomfortable twinge in Bobby’s chest that he pointedly ignored. 

 

“Hanbin, I made you food. You think you can get up to eat?” Bobby asked. 

 

No response. The cool fingers that grasped his pinky gave a little squeeze. 

 

“Water.” Hanbin said faintly, after a while. 

 

“I’ll take you to the living room so you can get comfortable, okay?” 

 

“Tired.” 

 

Poor thing. Bobby rubbed his back comfortingly. He did a little googling about migraines, and saw the hellish symptoms that plagued the sufferers, his stomach clenched at the thought that Hanbin experienced even one of them. 

 

Carefully swaddling the inert architect in his own blankets, Bobby pulled him upright disregarding the grumpy protests and slung Hanbin’s arms around his shoulders so he could carry him on his back. 

 

Hanbin, realizing that he had no choice in the matter, slumped defeated and planted his face into Bobby’s shoulder. 

 

It was almost evening, and he needed sustenance. If Bobby let him sleep more, he would be too depleted the next day. He was pretty sure it wasn't healthy for an adult to sleep that long. 

 

He felt Hanbin’s mouth move on his shoulder. 

 

“What was that?” He turned his head, his nose brushing the shampoo scented hair. 

 

“Bathroom.” 

 

Oh. Of course. 

 

Bobby felt his ears heat up for whatever reason, but brushed it off and set Hanbin down in the bathroom. 

 

“Is the light okay?” A nod. A muted light filled the bathroom, Bobby messed with the dim lighting the night before, he figured that Hanbin designed his house to accomodate his every need, so it made sense that all of the light fixtures had adjustable brightness. 

 

Hanbin stood unsteadily in all his disheveled glory, looking for all the world like a crumpled creature. It took a couple of seconds for him to struggle out of the blanket Bobby mummified him with, but when he did, Bobby neglected to remember the fact that he undressed him previously and was only wearing the white shirt he had on at the wedding and boxers. 

 

“Oh-kay, I’ll leave you to it then.” He rubbed the back of his neck that was uncomfortably hot and waited outside the bathroom scrolling through his phone. 

 

He heard Hanbin slowly moving around in there, the sound of an electric toothbrush and running water. 

 

A couple of minutes later the door opened and there was Hanbin, still noticeably gaunt and tired, but freshened up, his hair damp and pushed clumsily back from his face. He wordlessly ambled towards the living room, his hand trailing the wall for support. Bobby followed closely in case he fell. 

 

Bobby frowned at the lines of Hanbin’s back to where the sleeve opened loosely at the wrist. Was he this fine boned when they first met? 

 

When Hanbin finally settled on the suede covered sofa, Bobby brought him the soup he made. He figured he wouldn't be able to handle solid food when Hanbin woke up, so he heated up a can of soup and added small pieces of potato. Not exactly gourmet, but it would have to do. 

 

“You need a tv, man. I don't  even know how you live in this house without a single tv.” Bobby prattled on. 

 

After sipping some soup, Hanbin looked at him, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

 

“I don't know how you amuse yourself, I guess to some people, staring at a big blank wall is fun, but-,” 

 

“I have a TV.” Hanbin cut in. 

 

Bobby stared at the expanse of cream colored wall skeptically. “I don't know how to tell you this…” 

 

Hanbin opened a hidden compartment in the coffee table and took out a remote. After pressing a few buttons, a discreet whirring sound came from the wall. 

 

Bobby’s jaw dropped. 

 

Like one of those medieval secret rooms, the perfectly seamless wall parted to reveal the biggest TV Bobby has ever seen, flanked by state  of the art sound system. Another panel opened, rows and rows of gaming consoles were on display. He consciously closed his mouth to avoid drooling. 

 

Hanbin had a self satisfied smirk on his tired face. 

 

“Show-off.” Bobby muttered under his breath, taking the remote from Hanbin and started messing with the controls to acquaint himself for future use. 

 

“Can I use these when we’re not busy,  architect Kim?” The title felt strange now. Before he only used it in sarcasm.

 

“That's fine.” Hanbin slumped deeper into the sofa. “You use my speakers already.” He set the half eaten bowl of soup on his lap. 

 

“You need to eat more.” Bobby said, frowning again. 

 

“Not right now. I'll be fine tomorrow. Can you please get me an aspirin and water?” Fatigue was etched heavily on his face, Bobby didn't have the heart to gainsay him. 

 

*

 

While his thoughts were moving at such a mind numbingly slow pace, Bobby flipped through the channels. His migraine subsided to a dull throbbing that, while not as painful as a full blown attack, was sapping all the strength he regained from eating. Still, he was thankful that this attack lasted only less than twenty four hours. Usually he was laid low for a day or two. 

 

He tilted his head to the side and stared at Bobby who was frowning at whatever was on the screen. Hanbin didn’t really care what they were watching. He didn’t have the brain power for it if he was perfectly honest. It was already half past nine and Bobby was still with him. He didn’t have it in him to question that either.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Wow you guys are awesome?! 
> 
> -I hope you realize by now how much I love sickfics that I actually dedicated an entire chapter of just Bobby taking care of Hanbin. LOL 
> 
> -Next chapter may be a little bit delayed due to travel. So sorry for the inconvenience and I ask for your patience. 
> 
> -Please leave me comments, I'd love to hear what you think!


	4. The Involvement

“BOBBYYYYYYYY!!!” 

 

Said babysitter downed the rest of his coffee and trailed back to where the ruckus was coming from. 

 

The bad tempered, architectural design robot genius known as his boss, Kim Hanbin, was up and running again. And by up and running, boy did he mean like a demented squirrel scrounging for food after a long winter. 

 

One thing he found out early on about his workaholic boss, which shouldn’t have surprised him, really, was that he also worked during the weekends. Being felled by a migraine the entire Saturday night and Sunday wouldn’t have deterred him in working the first moment he felt well enough to hold up a pencil and ruler. 

 

Bobby just came back from tending to his chores at the greenhouse next door and took the time to shower and change. Bobby’s living arrangement made sense since he was actually a shared employee. He rented the horticulturist’s small cottage adjacent to the greenhouse at a low price, in exchange for being an on call gardener. 

 

Luckily, both their needs were only minor ones that there really wasn’t much of a conflict if Bobby went to the greenhouse in the middle of the day to prune a plant, or measure its height.

 

It helped that the two were childhood friends and learned from early on how to share their toys. Bobby smirked. 

 

“You called, architect Kim?” Bobby drawled and leaned indolently against the door frame of Hanbin’s work room. 

 

Hanbin looked up from his table, his face a mask of grumpy. “Where have you been?” 

 

“The greenhouse. Jinhwan’s away, remember?” He answered, looking around for Hanbin’s coffee mug which was nowhere in sight. No wonder.

 

“Yeah. Bastard didn’t attend my sister’s wedding.” Hanbin grumbled, sharpening his pencil in quick irritated jerks. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Bobby casually swept little pieces of torn paper from Hanbin’s table, a clear sign of agitation.  

 

“Why didn’t you tell me that Engineer Choi was trying to contact me?” 

 

Oh yeah. That one. 

 

“He was calling to invite you to lunch with his daughter.” Bobby tensed. He thought Hanbin wanted him to fend off grasping debutants? 

 

“Fuuuuuck.” Hanbin grasped his hair and banged his forehead against the wall. 

 

Bobby rushed to his side, “What, what is it? Migraine? Is it back?” He pulled Hanbin’s shoulder to turn him around. 

 

Hanbin looked up, his eyes watering and his forehead started to turn red. “I accepted his invitation without knowing this!” 

 

“He called again?” Bobby relaxed and absentmindedly rubbed the red spot on Hanbin’s skin with his thumb. 

 

“Yeah, he made it seem like it was a business proposal.” Hanbin kept mussing his his hair into odd peaks. 

 

“More like a marriage proposal.” Bobby snorted and Hanbin glared at him.

 

“Very funny.” Hanbin snapped. He found another ball of paper and started shredding that to pieces too. 

 

“Well, can’t you get out of it?” Bobby went to get his handheld vacuum that he made Hanbin buy. After a week of constantly sweeping the workroom floor and table, Bobby put his foot down and told Hanbin to buy him a vacuum or he will stop making coffee. Apparently, it was a threat Hanbin took seriously since the vacuum arrived the same afternoon. “Tell him you’re sick. Diarrhea or something.” 

 

“You. Don’t. Tell. Your. Associates. You. Have. Diarrhea.” Hanbin said through gritted teeth. 

 

Bobby totally would though. 

 

“Come one, it’s one meal. What could she possibly do?” Bobby patted his back consolingly, which Hanbin shrugged off. 

 

“A lot.” Hanbin visibly shuddered. 

 

With some amusement, Bobby saw actual fear in Hanbin’s face. Interesting. 

 

“Her feet are dangerous.” 

 

“I’m sorry, what?” Bobby stopped vacuuming, unsure if he heard correctly.  

 

His boss looked like he was counting under his breath, his fingers busily ripping more paper into blueprint confetti, so he waited. 

 

“She sat across from me at a dinner party.” Rip, rip, rip. “She tried to play footsie with me.” 

 

Bobby raised his brows. That was a ballsy lady. But that couldn’t be the only thing that happened though. 

 

He was right.

 

“While I was pushing her foot away politely, her stocking got caught in my zipper. She must have felt it and tried to get free, kicking me in the process.” Hanbin’s face looked sick. Bobby winced in sympathy. Was he serious? 

 

“When we all stood up, there was a long rip in her black stockings and a thread that was hanging from my crotch.” Hanbin finished reliving his trauma. 

 

Bobby couldn’t hold it. He started laughing. 

 

“I’m glad it makes you happy.” Hanbin deflated even more and was back to gripping his hair. 

 

When Bobby calmed down, he said in between breaths, “I don’t know what magical dick you must have for all these little rich girls to chase after you.” 

 

“Magical dick or no, I want these girls to stop coming after me!” Hanbin whined. 

 

“Take me with you then.”  _ What the fuck, Bobby?  _ He internally kicked himself. Why did he keep getting involved in Hanbin’s affairs?

 

Well, it was fun meddling in Hanbin’s affairs. For a workaholic with barely any social life, he has a great collection of close friends and a lot of interesting connections. 

 

It was also fun teasing him. Bobby realized early on that Hanbin’s grumpiness was just a part of his character as opposed to him being actually angry. He knew the limits of his temper though, and it was quite a low threshold, so Bobby opted for short jabs that were randomly spaced apart. 

 

It wouldn’t do him any good if Hanbin actually fired his ass. His connections were too good. Already he was drafting a contract with an old lady who wanted a pocket garden with a koi pond. 

 

“Really?” Hanbin looked at him as if he was just offered a lifeline. 

 

“Hanbin. Are you scared of girls?” Bobby asked suddenly. 

 

“I. Am. Not. Scared. Just apprehensive.” Hanbin said with injured dignity. 

 

“Suuuuuure.” Bobby drawled. “You were totally prepared for everyone to think you're gay in your own sister’s wedding just so they'd stay away from you.” 

 

“It's not girls in general. It's the girls in my social set. They are very aggressive.” Hanbin explained shrugging. 

 

*

 

Hanbin paid him well.  _ Very _ well. Bobby checked his bank account and he almost dropped his phone. Aside from his regular pay from him, the bonus was… whopping. So he went shopping.

 

Since Jinhwan was back, Bobby’s workload at the greenhouse lightened and he was able to do more at Hanbin’s. And it seemed like Hanbin was busy in his work room so he snuck away for a little bit. He won’t notice. For sure. 

 

His phone rang. Well fuck. 

 

“Bobby…” 

 

He could almost imagine the architect pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 

Putting back the boots he was eyeing, he shuffled out of the store. “Yep. On my way.” He replied. 

 

Hanbin held the line but wasn’t saying anything else, so Bobby had to ask him. 

 

“Architect Kim. About the money you deposited. Isn’t that a little too much?” 

 

“You want me to take it back?” Was the terse answer. 

 

“No, of course not. Just. Why?” 

 

“Do you really need me to spell it out?” Hanbin snapped. 

 

“Spell what out?” Bobby’s seven remaining brain cells are starving. 

 

“For last weekend.” 

 

Oh.  _ Oh.  _

 

“Listen, Architect Kim. I know we woke up in a weird position, but I can assure you that nothing happened.” He explained. 

 

_ Click.  _ The line ended. Bobby put his phone back in his pocket, scratching his head. 

 

They were up late watching a movie after Bobby got tired of playing video games. Yunhyeong visited again, with his brother Chanwoo in tow, having heard that Hanbin was unwell. They had fun playing, Bobby and Chanwoo teamed up against Hanbin and Yunhyeong. The latter two were absolutely abysmal. And Mario Kart was not the game for friendship. 

 

When Bobby noticed Hanbin’s energy flagging, he suggested a movie, to which the brothers declined and went on their way. 

 

Hanbin sank into his sofa, looking boneless, but he still asked Bobby to put a movie on. 

 

After much back and forth about movie choices, they settled on ‘Kill Bill’, with a bowl of popcorn between them. 

 

Somehow, Hanbin drifted off, and Bobby not long afterwards. 

 

He woke up lying on the sofa, with a warm, pliant weight half on him and half pushed against the back cushions. His hand skimmed silky skin as he blinked his eyes against the bright sunlight. 

 

Hanbin was on top of him. His face was tucked into Bobby’s shoulder and his hand on his chest. The other made a sleepy noise, lips moving in repose, and Bobby felt every single motion on his skin. 

 

His body’s response went from zero to one hundred. He was on fire.

 

Hanbin, being a brat even in his sleep, snuggled closer, insinuating his leg between Bobby’s knees, hand drifting down to his stomach. He couldn’t move. He did not want to look down to see his body’s response to this unrelenting stimulus. But he knew it would be embarrassing.

 

Bobby sang nursery rhymes in his head. Recited the oath of allegiance. The national anthem. Hail Mary’s. 

 

He was on his way to completing the rosary when Hanbin finally stirred. 

 

“H-Hanbin.” He choked out. 

 

The other’s grip tightened on him and given their close proximity… 

 

Bobby felt  _ it.  _

 

O-KAY. 

 

With jerky movements, not giving a fuck about finesse, he disentangled himself, falling on his ass on the floor. 

 

“Bobby?” Hanbin was sitting up, blinking owlishly at him. 

 

“Uh. Good morning architect Kim.” He scrambled to his feet hastily covering his front with a throw pillow. “I was just leaving.” 

 

He scurried away before Hanbin could say anything. 

 

*

 

Bobby was a bonehead. 

 

That was what Hanbin concluded after their phone call. 

 

He rubbed his face with his hands, totally ignoring the fact that his cheeks were hot. 

 

He wasn’t himself that day. He just woke up. 

 

Okay, so it felt very nice to slowly wake up with a warm, solid body holding you tightly.

 

He may or may not have been fully awake when he nuzzled into Bobby. He may or may not have known that it  _ was _ Bobby. 

 

He couldn’t help himself. He was ill. He wasn’t himself. 

 

“I am weak.” He said and slumped over his drafting table. 

 

He smelled so nice too like sandalwood and blueberries. The hand that he felt on his bare back-

 

“Stop being weird, Kim Hanbin.” He reprimanded. 

 

He grimaced in disgust at the cold coffee he had been nursing and went back to work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Poor Hanbin, it must be a struggle. LOL 
> 
> -Zomg you guys. I am so sorry for the late update, because of how I am as a person. Thank you so much for bearing with me. 
> 
> -My updates will still be spotty at best. Because life. 
> 
> -A reader asked how Hanbin and Bobby looked like in this fanfic, so here is how I see them:   
> Hanbin: https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/b8/41/d2b8414a68acc20ad8caa8cb230d4c80.jpg  
> Bobby: https://data.whicdn.com/images/314572560/large.jpg  
> I hope the links work for you. Please let me know if they don’t and I will send you another. :D Of course, you are free to imagine them how you would like. This is just my preferred look for them in the story. 
> 
> -More iKON members in the next chapter! Thank you for your patience!!! 
> 
> -Please leave me comments, I live for them. :D


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